


It's not what it looks like...

by kingsofeverything



Series: Quarantine/Covid Fics [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: COVID-19, Jock Straps, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex, Wanker's Day Fic Fest (One Direction), improper use of face masks, only not really, wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:41:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24357469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingsofeverything/pseuds/kingsofeverything
Summary: Quarantine allows Harry the time to improve his sewing skills, thanks to the face masks he makes for friends and family. Proud of his work, he posts a picture on Instagram, but it's not what it looks like.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Series: Quarantine/Covid Fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1858309
Comments: 43
Kudos: 256
Collections: WANKFEST 2020





	It's not what it looks like...

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks, me, for taking a picture of a mask I made and going 'DAMN that looks like a jockstrap!' Thanks, NIC, for going 'that sounds like a fic for wankfest!' (and also thanks for betaing and generally everything! ily!)
> 
> **Note:** I used a workskin for the text messages, so make sure you've chosen "show creator's style" up top in order to see them. Otherwise, it'll be text, which is fine and works for screenreaders :)
> 
> **If you’d like to translate any of my fics, feel free, but please post the translation on ao3.**
> 
>   
> **Please do not post this fic or any of my other fics on any other websites.**  
> 

“Niall!” Harry shouts from his bedroom, pushing his chair back and hurrying out to the living room where Niall is sprawled on the couch. “Look what I made for you!”

“Aww…” Niall wiggles his fingers until Harry hands it to him, and he sits up, tying it on. His voice is slightly muffled when he says, “Thanks, H. Fits perfectly.”

“Welcome,” Harry says, holding up his phone. “Can I put you on my Insta?”

“Sure.” Turning to face Harry, Niall lifts his chin, and even behind the face mask, Harry can tell he’s smiling. 

“Thanks,” Harry says, pocketing his phone. “I made a few, so like you can give some to your co-workers, if you want.”

“You’re the best, babe,” Niall says, falling back onto the couch. 

When Harry was nine, he asked his mom to buy him a sewing machine. Instead, she taught him to sew on her own machine, and let him use it under supervision until he was experienced enough not to sew his finger to something. When he hit his teenage years, Harry stopped sewing and started being moody and laying in the dark while listening to music on his headphones, which took up all of his time. 

Now that they’re socially isolating, and he’s stuck at home, he’s taken up sewing again. Surprisingly, it’s like riding a bike. 

As a teacher, he’s able to do his job online, but not everyone is, so he’d like to be able to help out. It’s nice to feel useful, but it’s really nice to feel creative. And it’s extra nice to feel both at once. 

It’d be great if he could find elastic, but he’s able to sew straps for them that tie and they work almost as well. He takes a few more pictures of the masks laid out on his bed, and takes a selfie wearing the mask he made for himself out of rainbow fabric. That one he’s extra proud of, so he makes sure that picture is the first one visible on his Insta, and he uploads them all without a filter so the fabrics don’t look faded or weird. He goes back to sewing, making a few more masks before deciding to take a break.

While he eats lunch, he checks his notifications, choking on his sandwich when he sees one of the comments on his Insta post. He clears his throat, and asks Niall, “Who’s Louis Tomlinson?”

“You know Louis,” Niall says, smacking Harry on the back. “He was the RA at my dorm. When he graduated, he gave me all of the contraband hot plates and coffee makers he’d confiscated over the years, and I sold them to unsuspecting freshmen.”

“Niall, please don’t tell me shit like this,” Harry says, not for the first time. “Plausible deniability.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“So, aside from being your partner in college dorm related crime, how would I know him?”

“Didn’t you meet him at that New Year’s Eve party at Shawn’s?” Niall asks.

“I wasn’t there. Had the flu,” Harry says, flipping his phone around for Niall to see. “Look what he commented on my mask pic.”

Niall cackles, grabbing the phone. “I mean, he’s not wrong. The way it’s laid out on your bed, it does kind of look like that.”

“It does not,” Harry says, scoffing and taking his phone back. He looks at the picture again, and at Louis’ comment. Then he clicks over to Louis’ profile, and wow. He’s pretty. And gay, according to his bio. Harry scrolls and scrolls and scrolls, finally getting up off the couch and going back to his room to scroll some more in private. When he gets to the end of Louis’ pictures, Harry feels his cheeks heat. He’s never scrolled that far back in anyone’s Instagram history before. 

Clicking back over to his own, he finds Louis’ comment, trying to think of a reply. 

**louist91:** Is that a jockstrap?

While he’s thinking, another comment appears beneath that one.

**louist91:** Ohhh it’s a mask! Was gonna say it probably wouldn’t cover much

Harry huffs, and goes back to Louis’ Insta, following him, and immediately sending him a private message.

**harrystyles:** Heyyyy can you delete your jockstrap comments? My mom follows me

Very quickly, Louis responds.

**louist91:** Done! Sorry! 

**louist91:** Didn’t mean to be rude. Was concerned for the wellbeing of your dick

**harrystyles:** My dick is perfectly fine, tyvm

When Louis doesn’t respond, Harry locks his phone, and goes back to his sewing machine. He has a little bit of rainbow fabric left, so he makes a few more masks out of that, and after he finishes, he checks his Instagram again.

**louist91:** I’m sure it is. Again, sorry I was rude. Think quarantine might be getting the better of me. Now that I look at it, it’s obviously not a jockstrap.

Harry laughs, typing out a response.

**harrystyles:** Niall agreed with you. Said it was the angle and because they were spread out on my bed.

**louist91:** You’re Niall’s roommate! I thought your name was familiar. We’ve never met, have we?

Before Harry can answer, Louis sends another message.

**louist91:** Nope. Looked at your pics. Is that you with the dimples? I’d remember you

**harrystyles:** That’s me. And no, we haven’t met. I think I’d remember you too

And then, maybe because quarantine is getting to him too, Harry sends Louis his phone number. Thankfully, he doesn’t have time to second guess himself because Louis texts him right away.

555-555-2828  
  
**Louis:** Hi.  
**Harry:** Hi. I thought this might be easier if we were going to keep talking  
  
**Louis:** Might be.  
  
**Louis:** Can I ask you something?  
**Harry:** Sure  
**Louis:** Are you single?  
**Harry:** What would you say if I told you I had a boyfriend?  
**Louis:** Probably that we shouldn’t be texting  
**Harry:** I’m single. If I wasn’t I might have something else to do with my time besides sewing masks  
**Louis:** Lol well I’m not seeing anyone either. Just FYI. Maybe that’s why I’m on Insta asking cute boys about jockstraps  
**Harry:** Cute boys?  
**Louis:** Please, Harold. You’ve seen your own face.   
**Louis:** Don’t play coy with me  
**Louis:** You're gorgeous  
**Harry:** Thank you but my name’s not Harold  
**Louis:** Unless that’s the quarantine sex drought talking  
**Harry:** I hope not  
**Harry:** Does that mean you’re not as hot as I think you are from your pics?  
**Louis:** Who’s to say? Could ask Niall  
**Harry:** Suppose you could do the same  
  
  


They carry on like that for a while, though neither of them ask Niall. At least, Harry doesn’t ask him, and he doesn’t think Louis asks him either. Hopefully Louis isn’t actually second guessing any attraction he feels for Harry, because the first thing Harry does when Niall leaves for work, is turn his phone on silent, and jerk off to the memory of Louis’ face. 

As the days pass, Harry finds himself texting Louis at all hours, sending him pictures of the masks he sews, chatting with him about his lesson plan, or complaining about Niall. There’s always an undercurrent of flirting in their messages, and sometimes Harry finds himself wanting to call Louis just to hear his voice. He doesn’t know what Louis sounds like, but he imagines it’s sexy.

Louis  
  
**Harry:** Hey can I send you some masks? I made a bunch  
**Louis:** Yeah, that’d be great. I only have one  
**Harry:** Send me your address  
  
  


  
Louis sends Harry his address with the caveat that Harry promises to come visit once quarantine is over, and Harry packs up six masks so that Louis has one for every day. They don’t live far from each other, and the package arrives two days later.

Louis  
  
**Louis:** Harold, why did you send me seven jockstraps?  
**Harry:** You must have them upside down. I sent you seven face masks  
**Louis:** Idk. Are you sure?  
**Harry:** Yes  
**Harry:** Ok. Maybe I sent you six face masks and one jockstrap  
**Louis:**!!!!!!!!  
**Harry:** It’s a joke!   
**Louis:** Well, it fits  
  
  


  
Harry gasps quietly as a picture comes in, but then he laughs. Even with a too big face mask on, Louis is incredibly handsome. A few seconds later, another picture comes in, this time of Louis’ face with a properly fitting face mask. And another after that, Louis’ face without a mask, smiling at the camera, eyes crinkling.

Louis  
  
**Louis:** Thank you. Going to give some of these to my sisters  
  
**Harry:** I'll send you more  
  
  


  
That sets them off on a different conversation about siblings and families and how hard it’s been not to see the people they love during lockdown. They text back and forth for a long time, until Harry’s fingers are tired from typing. He’s about to tell Louis he needs to go when Louis sends him another text.

Louis  
  
**Louis:** So I tried on the jockstrap  
**Harry:** Lol I know I saw the pic  
**Louis:** No. I tried it on  
**Harry:** On your dick?  
**Louis:** Yep. Doesn’t quite fit  
  
  


  
As much as he wants to ask for a picture of that, Harry stops himself.

Louis  
  
**Harry:** Are you sure? The straps are adjustable   
**Louis:** The straps aren’t the problem  
  
  


  
Biting his lip, Harry types and deletes, and then finally sends a message, locking his phone and covering his face with his hands.

  
**Harry:** You could send me a pic. Maybe I could help troubleshoot  
  
  


  
His phone pings, and Harry unlocks it with shaking hands. Louis sent him another photo, and he’s right. It doesn’t quite fit. Harry groans, rolling onto his back. Hard and only partially covered by the fabric, Louis’ dick lays against his stomach, curving slightly to the left. The fabric is tucked beneath his balls, but the straps are untied and draped over his bare skin. It’s obscene, and Harry’s mouth waters at the sight.

As he’s typing out a response, another text comes in.

Louis  
  
**Louis:** Omg please tell me you were serious and I didn’t just offend you  
  
  


  
Deleting his words, Harry quickly types another message.

  
**Harry:** Very serious  
**Harry:** You might need a bigger jockstrap  
**Harry:** Or you could just go without  
**Louis:** Fair’s fair. I showed you mine  
  
  


  
Just from flirting and looking at the picture of Louis’ poorly concealed erection, Harry's dick is mostly hard. He reaches inside his sweatpants, jerking himself until he’s fully hard with a little precome beading at the tip. Shoving his pants down, Harry bites his lip, trying to angle his phone to get the best shot. He sends it to Louis and locks his phone. 

A moment later, his phone rings. 

“Louis?” Harry asks, though his name’s right there on the screen. 

“Oh my god, your voice,” Louis says, raspy and quavering.

“Holy shit,” Harry says, squeezing the base of his cock, and whining quietly. “You sound so hot.”

“Are you touching yourself?” Louis asks.

“Yeah,” Harry says, licking his palm and stroking himself slowly, eyes closed as he pictures Louis doing the same. “Are… Are you thinking about me?”

A quiet moan comes through the phone, and Harry imagines he can hear Louis’ jerking off. “Fuck, yeah, I am.” 

The idea of Louis touching himself while thinking of Harry touching himself is mindblowing, and Harry can hardly function. He thumbs over the head of his cock, hips bucking as he gasps.

“What are you doing to yourself?” Louis asks, almost purring.

“I… I’m jerking off,” Harry says, voice hesitant. He’s never had phone sex before, though now seems like a bad time to bring that up. “I’ve never had phone sex before.”

“Oh, um… Me neither,” Louis admits, humming like he’s pondering something. He asks, “Are you moving slow or fast?”

“Slow,” Harry answers, holding his fist still and rolling his hips, fucking his hand. 

“Dry or do you have lube?” Louis asks, and Harry’s breath catches. 

“I… I can get lube. It’s right…” Harry rolls to the side, reaching for his bedside table drawer. “It’s right here.”

Laying on his back again, Harry holds the phone between his cheek and shoulder, fumbling to open the bottle and drizzle it into his hand. 

“Harry?”

“Yeah?” Harry flips the lid closed, lifting the phone in front of his face and tapping speaker. “I put you on speaker phone.”

“Shit. Good idea,” Louis says, chuckling and evidently doing the same. “Now I’ve got two hands.”

“What…” Harry starts, swallowing hard as thoughts of Louis using his other hand to finger himself ricochet around his brain. 

“Do you just want to jerk off or…” Louis gasps, and Harry pictures him sliding a finger inside.

“Fingers,” Harry says, hoping Louis understands. He reaches around, teasing his rim for a second before pushing his fingertip past the tight muscle. 

“Did you— Are you fucking yourself with your fingers, Harry?” Louis asks, and Harry groans, nodding as he moves his finger faster, rolling onto his side to get a better angle. 

“Sorry,” Harry says when he realizes Louis can’t see him nodding.

“Don’t be. Love that,” Louis says, and Harry hears him shifting, sheets rustling. “How many fingers?”

“One,” Harry answers, pulling it out and pushing back in with two, sighing at the stretch. “Two.”

“Me too,” Louis says, panting, breath staticky through the phone. “Thinking about your cock in me.”

“Oh god…” Harry’s body shakes, warmth building in his stomach as he pictures that. Mind reeling at the thought of fucking Louis, fingering him, jerking him off, making him come. “Was thinking that too.”

“Fucking me?”

“Was thinking about you fucking me, but now I’m picturing both…” Harry fucks his fingers in roughly, crooking them and trying to reach his prostate. “Me fucking you. You fucking me. Oh my god…”

“Shit, okay. That’s a picture,” Louis says, breaths coming heavier and faster. 

Harry strokes his dick to the rhythm of Louis’ breathing, rubbing over his prostate, bringing himself to the brink. He presses against his spot harder, his body twitches, and he comes, whining and gasping and dripping over his fist. 

“You come?” Louis asks, voice cracking.

“Yeah,” Harry says, heart racing. He pulls his fingers free, wiping his hands on his sheets. He mind feels heavy, like he’s moments from sleep, and he rambles, “Fucking you. You fucking me. You riding me. You spreading me open, making me take your cock.”

“Jesus. Fuck!” There’s a clattering sound, and Harry sits up, frowning at his phone. 

“Louis?” But there’s no response. Harry falls back onto the mattress.

“Shit. Sorry,” Louis says, and Harry turns his head, squinting at his phone screen. “Knocked my phone off the bed.”

Harry snorts. “Are you okay? Did you come?”

“Fuck, yeah, I did. That was… I’d like to do that in person one day.”

“I don’t know,” Harry says. “I don’t think it would work.”

“Oh, um… Sorry, I—”

“No! I meant, like— I mean, yes, of course. Sex. With you? Sounds like a solid post-quarantine plan,” Harry says, laughing at himself. “I meant that I don’t know how we’d fuck each other at the same time. Seems physically impossible.”

Louis laughs, and Harry grins at the sound. “Well, I meant physically possible sex.”

“That sounds good. Amazing, even,” Harry says, and emboldened by his successful foray into phone sex, he adds, “Would like to take you out, too. Like, on a date.”

“I’d like that, too,” Louis says. “We could, um… We could do a Skype date.”

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

“Okay, maybe tonight? But I kind of need to go,” Louis says, and Harry thinks he can hear him pout. “I have to shower.”

Harry cackles, and says, “Me too. Text me later?”

“Yeah, I’ll text you once I’m clean. Maybe you can talk me into getting dirty again.”

“Maybe,” Harry says, biting his lip. 

Their Skype date is a success, and so is the one after that. And once quarantine is over, they manage to have earth shattering, physically possible, in person sex.

**Author's Note:**

> [ Fic post for reblogging! ](https://kingsofeverything.tumblr.com/post/619374852909957120/its-not-what-it-looks-like-by-kingsofeverything)
> 
> [Tweet for retweeting! ](https://twitter.com/kingsofthings/status/1266122474401513475?s=21)


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